


Bet on Your Life

by silver_fish



Series: bad things happen bingo [4]
Category: Tales of Berseria
Genre: Blood and Injury, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Impulsive idiots, slight canon divergence?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-10
Updated: 2020-03-10
Packaged: 2021-02-28 07:06:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22740055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silver_fish/pseuds/silver_fish
Summary: Somewhere between Titania and Velvet’s final stand, Rokurou really did start to care for Magilou. He just never realized he cared more for her than for himself.
Relationships: Magilou/Rokurou Rangetsu
Series: bad things happen bingo [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1634152
Comments: 9
Kudos: 15
Collections: Bad Things Happen Bingo





	Bet on Your Life

**Author's Note:**

  * For [inabsurd](https://archiveofourown.org/users/inabsurd/gifts).



> [twitter](https://twitter.com/laphicets) / [tumblr](https://kohakhearts.tumblr.com)
> 
> prompt for my bad things happen bingo card: ain’t got time to bleed and magilou/rokurou. no one dies but it’s a close thing so don’t read if the violence will squick you (m rating is for gore, though i don't really think it's _that_ graphic. better safe than sorry tho!). to be honest, i have no fucking clue how this game goes anymore i played it at release and never did get around to ng+ so...canon divergence? just a bit, at least. i tried my best, i really did. either way, i hope you enjoy!!!

When they first met—so long ago, it feels like now, on that far-off prison—Rokurou thought all sorts of things about Magilou. She was a little funny, good entertainment, though ultimately a pest. Mostly, Rokurou liked how much she bother Velvet, who in herself was a great source of entertainment. They’re both out for vengeance, though, so it makes sense, to Rokurou, that they have wound up stuck together. _Magilou_ , on the other hand…

Well, perhaps the simple truth is that none of them have a place to go anymore, if they ever did at all. Magilou is mysterious. She’s eccentric, a trouble-causer.

And right now, she’s wounded.

“I wish I could do more,” Laphicet is saying, in that fretful way of his. Eleanor and Eizen are ahead, Medissa in between them. They’ll take her onward to Titania, but she has done a number on their group, especially on Magilou, who seems to have a few broken ribs, at least.

“It’s all right,” Magilou assures him, grinning feebly, though her voice comes out as a bit of wheeze. “I’m at the top of my form, kid, can’t you see?”

“She’ll be fine, Phi,” Velvet says quietly. “We’ll stock up more once we get back to Hellawes, so this doesn’t happen again.” She looks forward, towards Eizen, Eleanor, and Medissa. “We might have to split up tonight.”

“I can travel,” Magilou protests, then coughs, making a face as bloodied spittle drips from her bottom lip.

“We’ll see,” Velvet mutters

Rokurou grins at Magilou. “I’ll bet you’d survive it. Pretty sure you’re impossible to get rid of.”

“Well, I _am_ quite magical—”

But she’s cut off as a large shadow suddenly casts over them. Velvet lets out a growl and pushes Phi aside as three wolf-esque daemons land between them, dropping her hold on Magilou as a result. Magilou lets out a small cry, but is unable to get back to her feet, and yet Rokurou has no time to help her up before one of them is barrelling into him, tearing into his leg viciously once it has knocked him down. He curses and scrambles to stand again, drawing his daggers, but just as he slashes into it he sees that one of the others has gotten to Magilou, currently has her pinned against the ground.

“Velvet!” Rokurou yells, but she is already getting there. Laphicet trails after her, but the beast is too close to Magilou for him to cast anything without potentially hurting them both.

Experimentally, Rokurou steps down on his now-injured leg, then curses again as it tries to buckle under him. He is given no time to think about it, however, because now Velvet is yelling at _him_ , and though the creature has been taken out, blood continues to stain the snow around Velvet’s feet, and Rokurou isn’t sure whose it is, hers or Magilou’s or the one of the daemons’.

Rokurou hobbles over, then stops, dread filling him, as he finally sees the source of the blood:

There is a gaping hole in Magilou’s throat, where flesh has been ripped and torn apart. Dark red blood comes out from it like a grotesque, scarlet waterfall. All the white around her is crimson, and her clothes, too; it is in her hair, caked beneath her fingernails. An unhuman gurgling noise comes from her, though whether from her throat or from her mouth, Rokurou cannot tell.

Since he became a daemon, Rokurou can’t recall feeling so much all at once, something that wasn’t anger, the desire to put his blade through Shigure’s chest. But suddenly he is overcome with fear like he has never imagined, the sudden realization that Magilou could die—will die, if they aren’t quick enough—and he will just be standing her, watching it.

Without even considering her other wounds, nor his own, Rokurou pushes past Velvet and kneels down to pick Magilou up, tearing off a part of his sleeve and bundling it up to press against her wound. Maybe, in a different scenario, she would tease him for this, joke about being a fabulous bride, say something like _My, Rokurou, I had no idea you felt that way about me!_

But this is not a different situation, and when he meets her eyes, her lips begin to move but no sound comes out except that terrible noise, like a bubble caught in her throat, thick blood clogging around her vocal cords.

“Don’t talk,” he snaps, and behind him he hears Velvet or Laphicet, he doesn’t care to figure out which one, say, “Rokurou, your leg!”

“Damn my leg!” he calls back furiously, and then he is running, meeting Eizen and Eleanor in only a few steps.

“What happened?” Eleanor demands, but he ignores her, rushing past her in the direction of Hellawes. It is not far, thankfully, but once he gets past the city line he realizes that he is not sure which way to go, who can possibly help. Suddenly stopped, his leg begins to tremble beneath him, and he cannot keep standing, not with Magilou’s added weight too. Just as the others catch up, he is tumbling to the ground, white-hot pain shooting up from his ankle all the way to his hip. Dazed, he looks down to see that his leg has twisted awkwardly, his ankle jutting out in a way he did not think humanly possible. There is blood, too, which might be his, though he is now coated in Magilou’s blood too. There is something about this, the mingling of their blood, that feels almost reassuring, comforting.

“You idiot,” Velvet is seething above him, but he can’t really see her, is noticing that the area around her is growing quite dark, like night has fallen without him even realizing. She says something else, to Eizen or Eleanor, he thinks, but that is growing fuzzy too, her words, everything really. He can still smell the iron scent of blood, pervasive, all around him, and when his head drops down again all he can see is red, the blood-soaked fabric he was trying to use to stop the flow of Magilou’s blood, Magilou herself—mangled flesh, blood bright and dark, the stuttering of her chest, like it won’t be long before her heart gives up completely.

He doesn’t get a chance to think anything else, though, before the rest fades out too, and he falls into that blissful darkness.

~

When Rokurou comes to, it takes him a moment to remember what happened. When he does, though, he shoots up, twisting to get himself out of bed, but then someone is pushing his down, scolding.

“She’s fine,” Velvet snaps. “I can’t believe you ran so far on a broken leg. Are you an idiot, or just stupid? What would have happened if it had given up before we got there?”

“She’s fine,” Rokurou repeats. “Where is she, then?”

Velvet rolls her eyes. “Did you even hear a single thing I just said?”

“I don’t tend to listen when you go into lecture mode,” he says listlessly, trying to peer past her, but she steps in front of his line of sight again, glaring.

“You need to rest for a while longer,” she informs him, like it is somehow a _victory_ on her part. “If you hadn’t ran off like that, we could have just set it and been off, but you made it worse, so now you’re stuck.”

Resigned to his fate, Rokurou sighs and flops back, glaring petulantly at the ceiling. “If it were you, you’d want to get up too.”

“But I would never do something so _stupid_.”

He opens his mouth to argue that yes, she _would_ , if that had been Laphicet instead of Magilou, then stops, his head suddenly spinning. Oh, it’s no secret amongst them that Laphicet is most important, at least in Velvet’s eyes. She loves the kid, would move worlds for him, would die for him, maybe, but the _rest_ of them—well, maybe she cares a bit, but not like that, not with so much of herself, with so much _love_.

Rokurou always thought he and Velvet were pretty similar, in that regard. Sure, he’ll tag along—Velvet’s quest has, effectively, become his own, after all, or their two goals have combined into one common enemy of the Abbey—but he’s not about to let himself die before he kills Shigure, at least. Preferably, he won’t die at all.

He probably wouldn’t have died today—yesterday? He isn’t sure—but he wonders if he would have done the same thing, if he might’ve. He furrows his eyebrows, then pulls back the covers on the bed and stares down at his ankle, now wrapped up. He can’t see, but—

“Was I bleeding?”

“Yes.” Something in her gaze seems to soften, as much as it ever can for Velvet, anyway. “You opened up some other wounds, too. Probably why you passed out, if not from the pain.”

Rokurou bristles. “I would _not_ pass out from pain.”

“Yeah, whatever, tough guy. Anyway, Eleanor and Eizen went on to Titania, so we’ll have to wait for them to come back for us. By then, you should both be healed up. It’s not so far,” she adds, as if he doesn’t remember. “Now you’re up, I’ll bring some food.”

“And Magilou?”

“She’s sleeping.” Velvet looks irritated, again. “Phi’s watching over her. He insisted.”

Rokurou snorts. “He totally adores her.”

Velvet glowers, as if this is _his_ fault. “If only I knew _why_. Stay here,” she commands, taking a step back. “If you stand on that leg, I _will_ find out, and I _will_ kill you.”

“Okay, okay, I hear ya,” and with one last dirty look, she is gone.

As she exits, Rokurou deflates again, chest tight with a feeling he can’t quite name. Velvet loves Laphicet enough to do stupid things for him. That makes sense, in a way.

But _Magilou_?

What is Magilou to him, other than a companion, someone he and Eizen can place bets with, sometimes, or get a little drunk with, maybe, while Velvet looks down on them all in scorn? Someone who makes him laugh, sometimes, who he can share a punchline with? A nuisance, often, mysterious in the worst way possible, a bit of a freak and not only because of her circus associations. They were stuck on Titania together, until they met Velvet, but it’s not like they _knew_ each other, and even now they do little more than joke around with each other, fight next to one another. And as the thought passes over him, he wonders if Magilou would have done the same thing for him, if she would have put her own health on the line just so he wouldn’t die.

When Velvet return, she hands him a bowl of broth, but they do not speak while he empties it. After it’s all gone, she takes the bowl and disappears again, and the next time the door opens, it is not Velvet but Laphicet who appears.

“Hey, kid,” he says, as cheerfully as he can manage. “How’re you doing?”

“I’m good,” he says, earnest as ever. “Magilou wanted to know if you’re all right.”

And there it is, that _feeling_ again. It starts deep in his chest, pulls at him in a way somehow even more painfully than standing on a broken foot had been. “She was, was she?”

He nods. “Velvet says you should get more rest, though. Both of you.”

“Bit of a slave-driver, that one.”

He appears very serious, suddenly. “It’s just how she shows she cares,” he says. “She’s not sure how to do it any other way.”

“Is that so?” He might be right. Rokurou wouldn’t know; he has never really thought of Velvet as someone who _cares_ about him, not like that.

“Yeah. Just like—just like how you went after Magilou. That’s how you show you care. Velvet says it was impulsive, but—I think it was really brave, Rokurou. I’m sure she’s really happy you went after her.”

Rokurou tries for a smile, but it falters before it even comes. “Thanks, kid. Velvet’s probably right, though.”

“She’s right a lot,” Laphicet allows. “But not about this, I don’t think. Anyway…she says you should get some more rest. You can probably start moving again soon, and Magilou too.”

Somehow, it sounds a lot more appealing when Laphicet says than it when Velvet does.

“All right,” Rokurou agrees. “You should get some rest too, you know. Been a long few days.”

He grins. “I will, Rokurou. I’ll see you soon,” he adds just before stepping out of the room again, leaving Rokurou to his thoughts.

Those don’t stay for long, either, before he is drifting off to sleep. These are, after all, he thinks wryly, Doctor Velvet’s orders.

~

“Rokurou.”

He turns, startled, to see Magilou. She looks as good as ever, with only some scars to show her awful injuries. They’re finally about the Van Eltia again, both of them completely recovered from their misadventure outside of Hellawes, as Velvet might call it.

She looks serious, too, which is really rather frightening, all things considered. She is not normally an intimidating woman, but he finds himself feeling rather parched as he meets her eyes.

“I didn’t get a chance to say so before,” she says, “but they told me what you did. You know, risking your life for me.”

“I hardly risked my life,” he protests. “I broke my ankle, that’s all.”

“Risked your ankle’s life, then.” She shrugs. “Doesn’t matter. I just wanted to say—well, thanks, I guess.” Now, she just looks uncomfortable, as if this is too deeply emotional for her to be saying, as though she needs saving from an awkward conversation.

He could leave her hanging, but he decides they have both been through enough in the past week.

“Don’t worry about it,” he says easily. “I told you, didn’t I? It’ll take a lot to kill you. I bet, even.”

“You did not.”

“Well, I _said_ I would. A thousand gald, what do you think?”

“I’m worth at _least_ three thousand.”

He grins. “Three thousand, then. So next time you’re about to die, just remember that my money’s on the line here.”

“But…” She stops, crossing her arms over her chest in an almost protective stance. “But there was no money this time,” she finally says. “And there won’t really be next time. So why’d you do it? None of the others would have.”

His lips fall again. It’s there, that feeling, a tightness in his chest. It’s painful, but not unpleasant, not exactly. “They might have,” he says weakly, but he isn’t sure if it’s true, himself.

“I don’t like owing people,” Magilou suddenly declares. “And now I owe you. So, tell me what you want, and then we’ll put this all behind us, what do you say?”

He shakes his head. “I don’t want anything from you, Magilou. I just didn’t want you to die.”

She stops, seeming to shrink into herself a bit. “That’s it?” she whispers. “But _why_?”

“Because…” He frowns, averting his gaze. “I don’t know,” he finally says. “I just knew, right then, I didn’t want to imagine my life without you in it, so I did the first thing I could think of.”

Silence, for a beat. And then: “Oh.”

“So,” he says, locking eyes with her again, “you don’t owe me anything. I’d do it again, money or no, you’re right. I guess all it means is that my life isn’t the most important one to me anymore, that’s all.”

She’s obviously stunned, and when he loops back his words in his head, he finds himself a bit stunned, too. He hasn’t realized it, but this has been there all along, beneath all his questioning, all his worrying. It is the source of the feeling, that awful but not-so-awful feeling:

Love.

He _does_ love Magilou. Somewhere, somehow, he did come to care for her. He isn’t sure, exactly, why. But he’s certain, now, that this is the case. She won’t want to hear it, he knows, but there is something reassuring in knowing it himself, in having certainty. They are all a bunch of loners who just happened to become part of a group. He and Magilou were conveniently prisoners at the same time, people who just happened to meet in a crazy bid to break out. Now, they are here, aboard this ship, part of something much bigger, and they aren’t exactly alone, anymore, not really.

“Okay,” she finally says. “All right. I don’t owe you, then.”

“That’s right.”

She hesitates a moment, then, all in a rush, says, “And for the record, if it was you, I’d have done the same thing.”

And then she is gone, before he can even really even process what she has said. Once he does, though, he finds himself oddly touched, the tightness in his chest loosening into something warmer.

No, they are not alone anymore. Not really.

**Author's Note:**

> comments and kudos are always appreciated! xx
> 
> (p.s. catch me on twitter [@laphicets](https://twitter.com/laphicets) or tumblr [@kohakhearts](https://kohakhearts.tumblr.com) for writing updates. i also sometimes take writing requests on both!)


End file.
